


Interlude

by Elisexyz



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Season/Series 01, angst undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-08-20 17:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Sometimes, they are happy.





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write something about the two of them, I rewatched the first two seasons and I just. love them so much. I wasn't sure about how to tag it, because they have a complicated relationship, but ultimately I don't see it as romantic (not from James' side at least), so I treated it as gen. It can be seen as romantic, though, if you squint.

Sometimes, they are happy.

James came home with three new books and no visible injuries, only looking a little worn out, even though that tiredness seemed to dissipate when he smiled at the sight of her.

He will be staying for three weeks at least, because his crew demands some leisure time and they caught a significant enough prize to justify a bit of a break, and the house finally feels _full_.

Miranda used to live in an house ridiculously big – Thomas’ house, _their_ house – but so full of life, with servants always up and about, an husband to hold her hand should she feel in need for company, social engagements – some more loathsome than others – to fill her time. Now she lives alone, in the interior of the pirates’ land, pretending to be deaf to the whispers surrounding her – that is not news, although she has now moved from unfaithful wife to wicked witch –, with no friends to speak of and always fearing that this will be the time that James doesn’t come home.

Somehow, the small house that should feel so much more like her own is still strange to her. It feels closer to a big, empty cave than a real home.

(At least, when she is on her own.)

She finds James sitting on the bed, a book in hand as he eats his breakfast. She likes to garden a little in the early morning, so when she left him he was still sound asleep.

She puts up a frown and she crosses her arms as she scolds him, even with the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.

“No!” she insists, when he tries to defend himself, taking away his half-eaten breakfast with a strict look. “Get up, you have just lost your bed privileges.”

“I thought this was supposed to be my bed too!” he protests, pouting like the child that he sometimes turns into, much to her amusement.

“It isn’t,” she replies, mercilessly, chin up as she looks down on him. “This is _my_ bed. Yours is on a stinky ship, and you are very welcome to travel all the way back to the bay, get on a boat and go fill _that_ with crumbs.”

He puffs, pushing himself forward to try and reach for what is left of his bread. She moves a step back, easily getting out of his reach. He groans. “Oh, come on—”

“No. You are hereby banished from this bed, sir. Go on, get up. Look alive.”

“The sun is barely up, I am _not_ alive,” he mutters, but he does push himself up, looking a lot like a kicked puppy. His dishevelled hair, too big a shirt and hands disappearing under his sleeves only add to the image.

She rewards him for his effort with a kiss on the temple, which gets her an affectionate smile as an answer, before she precedes him towards the door.

“Come on,” she says, smiling herself. The slight annoyance at the thought of having to rid of crumbs her _clean_ sheets does nothing to mask her affection. “I’ll join you at the table.”

(Sometimes, their little flashes of joy get interrupted, grief washes all over them both at the same time and they go back to seeing their pain reflected in each other’s eyes. They remember how much they’ve lost, and as they are thrown back to brighter times they are crushed by the weight of a past that will never return, of a future that was stolen from them.

Not always, though. Sometimes, comfortable as two people who have been partners for years are bound to be, they are granted some peace.)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
